A Stone Creek Collection Volume 1 by Linda Lael Miller

Author:Linda Lael Miller [Miller, Linda Lael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488095542
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2017-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

IT WAS ALONG toward evening when Rowdy came.

Lark, sitting in the rocking chair close by the cookstove, with a quilt-bundled Lydia sleeping in her lap, knew it was him by the way he knocked.

Mrs. Porter had gone to bed, worn-out from the long night just past and the wearying day that followed. Mai Lee was off somewhere, probably helping Hon Sing with saloon duties neglected during the crisis with Lydia.

“Come in,” Lark called.

Rowdy opened the door and stepped over the threshold, Pardner with him. And Lark saw the grim tidings in his face, even before he voiced them.

“How is she?” he asked, nodding to indicate Lydia, as he hung up his hat.

“Weak,” Lark said, “but she’ll recover, thanks to Hon Sing.”

Rowdy took off his gloves, stuffed them into a pocket in his coat, shed the garment, and laid it over the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

“What about you, Lark?” he asked, very quietly, stopping at a little distance and watching her with eyes that would see right through any lie she told. “You look pretty done in yourself. Have you had anything to eat? Slept a little, maybe?”

She managed a thin smile, shook her head. Waited.

“Well,” he said philosophically, “neither have I.”

“Rowdy,” Lark said.

“No,” he sighed, gazing down at Lydia’s still, sleeping form. “The doctor didn’t make it home.”

Lark closed her eyes, held Lydia a little more tightly. “Where is the—where is he now?”

“At the undertaker’s,” Rowdy answered. “I took him to his house first, but Mrs. Fairmont didn’t want him laid out there.” He sighed again. “I reckon I can’t blame her.”

“You’ve gathered, I suppose, that Mabel Fairmont isn’t the most dedicated mother?” Lark’s eyes burned. What was Lydia going to do? Was there a family somewhere—grandparents, perhaps, or aunts and uncles? Anyone who might take her in?

“I gathered that much, all right,” Rowdy said.

Pardner, sitting as close to Lark’s chair as he could without being in her lap, gazed mournfully at Lydia. Nuzzled her cheek with his snout.

Lydia stirred, smiled a little, tried to stroke the dog’s head. Murmured a greeting.

Meanwhile, Rowdy went to the sink, rolled up his shirtsleeves and pumped water to wash his hands. That finished, he headed for the pantry and came out with a bowl of eggs and a loaf of bread.

“Supper,” he explained.

Supper. Lark was reminded of the plans she’d made with Maddie, to visit the O’Ballivan ranch on Friday. Though she had barely a hope of getting there, it made her feel a little better to imagine being a guest at Sam and Maddie’s table, speaking of pleasant things. After the meal was over, Maddie might even be persuaded to play the spinet.

Lark ached for music.

Rowdy cracked four eggs into a bowl, whipped them to a froth with a fork and set a skillet on the stove to heat. The lard he added smelled good as it melted.

“Do you think there’s more snow coming?” Lark asked with a note of dread in her voice, starting to come out of her stupor.

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